


in memoriam

by sammakku



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Character Death, Coming of Age, Future Fic, Gen, Gremlin Lilla My | Little My, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Little My grows up, Little My is tall, Moominmamma - Freeform, Moominvalley (Mumintroll | Moomins), Vent fic sort of, adoptive parent moominmamma, cried writing please enjoy. please enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammakku/pseuds/sammakku
Summary: A short story about Little My and her emotions.
Relationships: Muminmamman | Moominmamma & Lilla My | Little My, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Lilla My | Little My
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	in memoriam

Nearly ten years had passed since Little My had sprouted up like a sapling in the springtime. 

For years, she had been a tiny little thing; she could barely climb up the steps of Moominhouse without jumping, she slept in a teapot, and she was a literal ankle biter. 

But on her 19th birthday, she had the biggest growth spurt of her life; overnight, no less.

She was 6’5” now, and towered over her sister but wasn’t quite as large as her mother. She took to her new height naturally, like any Mymble would, though it was hard sleeping in a bed rather than a small trough or a teapot; she kept her name, as it wasn’t _totally_ incorrect… she _was_ the youngest child bearing the family name. 

In those ten years, Little My had gotten quite burly, mostly from working in Moominmamma’s garden and from taking up any odd job she could around the valley. Her skin was speckled from head to toe, and her hair matted and rough from staying in a messy bun for most of that time. Her eyes had become squinted from working out in the sun so often, and her hands were rough from overuse. She stood with a slight hunch, and her clothes were ragged; in an odd kind of way, she had the face of her father, but resembled her _step-_ father in every other sense. 

Sometime after that, she saw her sister Mymble move in with her girlfriend, Too-Ticky, and saw them wed soon after that. From there their family bloomed quickly, and from their home they ran an orphanage of sorts… and suddenly My wasn’t seeing much of the either of them anymore. 

Their youngest brother followed suite; he and Moomintroll were wed within the past six or so years; within the past five, they had their own child, and within the past four the young couple had taken their son and left Moominhouse. They became nomads, spending only the late spring and the equinox of autumn in the valley now, but even then they spent it in their own home. 

And those weren’t the only changes to the Valley; thereafter Snorkmaiden experienced a revelation, and was suddenly Riviera bound once again, pursuing a career as a model and an actress, as she had always dreamed in her childhood days. 

Her brother was left behind, not that he minded much at all. He was much too busy in the observatory to be sad over her leaving. 

The final to leave Little My behind was Sniff; there wasn’t much to say about him, except the fact he had left long ago with a few business fellows, hoping to become some sort of door-to-door salesman… whatever that was, My didn’t know, and didn’t care to ask. 

Thus, Little My was left alone in Moominhouse… not that she minded much. 

She insisted she liked the house quiet, but every now and then she felt her heart ache for what they once had; she missed the adventures the group would go on, exploring the fields and mountains and forest, never really knowing what would come next or what trouble they would find each day. 

She missed opening the window and hearing Snufkin’s gentle mouth organ play for Moomin in the distance, under that tree that was good for climbing. She longed to hear Snorkmaiden chattering as she made flower crowns on their porch. She even missed Sniff’s insufferable plots to gain a quick buck; at least those were more exciting than carrying boxes around for Miss. Fillyjonk.

Though she missed the others, they were often easy to reach. for half the year Moomin and Snufkin were a hop, skip, and a jump away, and her sister lived along the shoreline; Snorkmaiden was only a phone call away, and Sniff often found himself back in the Valley every few months.

No, who Little My missed most of all was Moominpappa… he wasn’t a hop skip and a jump, a phone call or a few months away from her. 

Or anyone. 

It had been a little over three years now. It was a stormy night and he had been out sailing with Little My, a few friends from his adventuring days, and Moomin and his son, Mika. The day was wonderful, perfect, even, and nothing seemed wrong at the time.

Little My was pulling the boat closer to the dock with Moomin’s help; she was feeling a tad bitter, but only because she knew she’d have to share the cherry pies that night. They didn’t notice the trouble until someone let out a yell, and they all hurried over just a little bit too late. 

On the shore he had fainted, and it took My and Moomin nearly ten more minutes to get him home. By then, it was too late.

At the very least, Moomin and Moominmamma were glad they had at least a fleeting moment to say goodbye. 

Little My couldn’t do much but watch. Helpless.

It hit her hard; she had already lost her first father, before she was born, and her step-father had left when she was only two or three, not returning until she was 18. Moominpappa was all she had left at that point. 

She remembered how annoyed he would pretend to be with her when she first arrived. He insisted she go back home to her mother, but she knew he didn’t have the heart to send her back to a house he knew neglected her. So, instead, the old moomin welcomed her with open arms into his… and quickly, the two bonded, and suddenly My had a father for the first time in a very long time. 

But now he was gone, and again her goodbyes were robbed from her.

She felt small again. 

For the past three years now it had been just her and Moominmamma; it wasn’t too bad, in all honesty. The two loved one another much like a mother was supposed to love her eldest daughter, and they took care of one another. Little My tended the farm and garden, as Moominmamma had been worn down from years of work, and harsh illness, and could only stand to take care of the roses on her own anymore; even then, Little My handled the weeding nearly all the time now; Moominmamma still took care of the housework and cooking, though these days often felt too sick or weak to do so. 

Little My didn’t mind taking care of Moominmamma; it felt like repayment for everything she and the rest of the family had done for My. And besides, it was much better than searching for random jobs around the Valley. 

On this particular day, Little My found herself without much to do at all. On the floor of their parlor she sat, doodling on a handmade sketch pad ideas for a tool shed she was considering building before Moomin left the Valley (mostly so he could help her get it up). Behind her, Moominmamma rocked gently in a chair, her knitting needles softly clinking together as she fashioned Snufkin a new pair of mittens for the winter. 

It was days like these that got Little My feeling anxious. She couldn’t stand the peaceful days, or days that seemed too good to be true anymore. It had been too quiet for too long.

Moominmamma, the observant moomin she was, noted the tension in the room. Perhaps that’s why she paused in her knitting and slowly rose to her feet. She gave Little My a small smile as she turned to look at her, the crinkles in her eyes especially apparent that day. 

She hobbled over to a table and picked up Little My’s old wicker basket.

“Dear,” Moominmamma hummed, her voice naturally soft and sweet like honey, “Why don’t you go out and find me some mushrooms? I’ll roast some chicken, and tonight we could have some mushroom pie.”

Little My gave a smile and got up herself then. She hurried over and took the basket from her guardian. 

“I think that sounds _delicious,_ ” Little My replied with a grin, “I’ll be back!” She turned then to head for the door, pausing only when Moominmamma cleared her throat softly. 

Inconspicuously, she hurried back, and pressed a quick kiss to her head, then ran out the door. 

The old path was worn down from the hundreds or even thousands of trips between the mushroom patches and Moominhouse. On the edges of the sunken road were small flowers that others would consider weeds, and many of the trees bore sweet fruit; Little My used to climb up on heads to reach one for herself, but now she could reach and twist one off a branch as she passed with ease. 

It didn’t take her much time to pick the mushrooms from the forest floor. She was fast at it in these days, and didn’t need to pause and check for inedible ones anymore. 

She hummed to herself as she picked, initially oblivious to her surroundings; mushroom picking was just something that My happened to find… therapeutic, in an odd way. 

Her focus was broken soon thereafter, though, as a voice distantly called her name. 

“ _Little My! Little My!”_ The voice called, and she paused, “ _Little My! Over here!”_

She stood and turned, squinting into the distance curiously. 

On a far oak was a pair of familiar faces: Toft, the previously depressed little whomper from November, and Ninny, the (former) invisible child, sat up on one of the lower branches. 

Ninny waved her hand above her head, and hopped down from the tree. Toft followed suit, and they both hurried over to Little My.

Little My placed her hand on her hip, waiting for the two to make their way over. Both were young adults now; Ninny had cut her hair not too long ago and took to wearing trousers over dresses and skirts nowadays; Toft, meanwhile, had started to fancy skirts and dresses. 

“Hello, Little My,” Ninny greeted, voice strong and bold, as it should be. 

“Hello,” My replied, “I haven’t seen the two of you in awhile, where have you been?”

Ninny brought her hands together, “Oh, haven’t you heard? We’ve been getting ready to move!”

“Is that so?”

Ninny nodded, and Toft piped up this time, “Well, not us, technically; we’ve been getting Too-Ticky and Mymble and all the children ready to move, while we’re getting ready to move into their old home.”

Suddenly, Little My felt a new weight fall on her shoulders. Her small smile dropped, and without realizing, she scowled, “Wait, what? They’re _moving?”_

“Yes! They’re just about done packing, actually,” Ninny remarked, still just as happy and excited, “They leave tomorrow evening.” 

“They leave tomorrow evening,” Little My echoed, shaking her head slowly, “Well-- is that even a good idea?! Are they going to have the space at that-- that _dinky_ little lighthouse?!”

Ninny’s head tilted, and her eyebrows furrowed, “Um… yes? Little My, don’t you remember from when you stayed? It’s quite big, especially after you and the Moomins fixed the place up. It’s quite perfect for them. It has _just_ the right amount of space.” 

“DOES it?” Little My began to argue, her grip on her basket tightening, “They haven’t had any complaints just staying in the Valley! They love it here! Why _move_ now?!”

Ninny and Toft exchanged a worried look, “My, I really don’t think they’d move if they didn’t have a _single_ complaint… yes, they love it here, but they can’t _stand_ to stay for much longer…” 

“Bull _shit!”_ Little My growled. She felt her cheeks getting red, and took that as a sign to leave. She turned on her heel, and began to stomp back down the path; Toft would swear he saw smoke coming from her ears. 

**. . .**

When the door slammed and the pots and pans and decorative plates on the shelves rattled, Moominmamma just knew Little My had heard the news. 

It had been kept a secret from her up until now, she supposed; Mymble was afraid of how her sister would react, and didn’t want to upset her… but in doing _that,_ poor My was left in the dark without a flashlight. 

Wiping her hands on her apron, Moominmamma moved to the doorway to watch Little My seethe in the front hall. She waited patiently to be noticed, then calmly extended her hand.

But Little My didn’t take it; instead, she placed the mushrooms on the table closest to Moominmamma, then stomped her way up to her room.

The pots and pans and decorative plates rattled again. 

**. . .**

Little My paced like a caged animal in her room, fists clenched and grumbling incoherent curses to herself. 

She couldn’t believe this was happening! Her brother and sister _never_ made enough time for her in the first place, and now, her sister had the audacity to try and move without letting her know?! Why did she have to find out through her niece?! Why didn’t anyone give a shit about her anymore?!

Little My ripped open her wardrobe, and pulled out a mason jar from the bottom; she quickly unscrewed it and placed her mouth against it, then let out a _mighty_ scream. The second she was done, she screwed the top right back on.  
  
She took a deep breath and placed the jar up on a shelf, along with many others just like it. She felt… collected. At least for now. 

Sitting down at her desk now, she pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. Her hand moving faster than it ever had, she penned out a farewell letter to her sister. Her pencil dug into the paper, and it ripped at more than one point, but it was the least she could do, she guessed. 

As time pasted like the bitter wind, the less sure she became of her anger. Everyone around her was growing up, starting families, moving on… and she was still here, in Moominhouse, under Moominmamma’s gentle care; was she simply angry because… she _couldn’t_ bring herself to move on? To let go of the Valley? To find love outside of a parent? 

As her pencil made its final mark she exhaled, and blinked a few times. My looked over the letter and found that it had smudged here and there… from tears, no less. She scoffed at the idea that she was _really_ crying over this, folded the letter, and shoved it into a drawer. She’d deal with that later. 

“Little My!” Moominmamma called from the stairs. With her words, the old boards creaked, “Little My! Your pie is done, are you alright…?”

“Um--” Little My leapt from her chair, wiping her eyes with her arm, “Yeah, I’m just fine, Mamma! I’ll be right there-”

There was a sudden bang, and the sound of shattering glass followed; Little My would have flinched if she hadn’t frozen in place. 

Little My rushed out of her room, and one of her most recent worst fears was realized; in the hall, Moominmamma had fainted, much like she had seen Pappa do all those years ago… 

My didn’t cry out, energy focused on rushing to get Mamma to her room and to her bed. She made sure she was at least breathing before she rushed out of the room again. Ignoring the mess on the floor, she retrieved a wet, warm rag and a glass of water for Moominmamma. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, My dabbed Moominmamma’s face gently with the rag, nibbling a hole in her lip as she waited for the old moomin to come-to again. 

“Mamma,” She mumbled worriedly, “Please wake up, please…!”

Her eyes watered again, and she couldn’t stop the tears for a second time. Once more, she felt helpless; she was lost at sea once more with no one to guide her home. She wanted to scream, but her jars were out of reach. 

Little My leaned down, resting her head against Moominmamma’s chest, and holding her paw tightly in her own. Her tail flicked side to side as she let out another soft plea, “Please don’t leave me alone, not yet. I can’t do this by myself, not yet, I’m not-- there’s no way I’m ready yet--” 

“Ready yet…?” Moominmamma’s voice was soft, and haggard. Her paw squeezed Little My’s in a comforting matter, and her body shifted slightly, “Don’t be silly, my dear…”

Little My let out a pathetic sob, and her head lifted, “M- Mamma?! Don’t strain, not for me, I- I’m just being a baby, anyway. I should be worrying about how you feel, not about…” 

Moominmamma let out a soft chuckle, “Don’t worry about me, Little My. You shouldn’t. I’m at peace with what’s happening to _me…_ what about _you?_ ” 

“What about me?” Little My echoed. She shook her head, “No, what? You’re at… Moominmamma, what are you saying?!” 

Moominmamma looked up at the ceiling, her body trembling with each subtle movement she took. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled knowingly, “I think it’s about time I went and saw Pappa again. He’s been missing me more and more lately… probably as much as I’ve been missing him, in fact.”

Little My sobbed like a baby, and shifted closer to Moominmamma, “Mamma, you can’t!” She begged, “Not yet! You can’t leave me alone! What about Moomin? And Snufkin? What about their son-- a- and how would Fillyjonk feel without you? You simply _can’t_ leave us!”

“But when else would I?” Moominmamma asked, voice as calm as ever, “If I waited until Winter, you would beg the same of me, and if I waited until next year, Pappa may not be around to guide me. I simply _must_ go, Little My.”

“But Mamma!” Little My whined, “I’m not ready! I can’t do this alone! What will I do without you?!” 

“Little My,” Moominmamma exhaled, and released her hand just so she could cup My’s cheek gently, “Yes, you _can._ Who has taken care of me all this time? Who has worked on their own for so long, who has taken the lead all these years now…?” 

“That’s all I’m good at, caring for you. Without you, I…”

“You are much more than a caretaker for an old moomin like me. You are a beautiful, strong Mymble-girl, who has become quite the lady in all her years in this Valley. You are so much more than you care to realize, My. You may feel lost, or alone, but you have a place in this world. Your story doesn’t end with me; this is just the end of the very long first chapter.” 

It was becoming harder to see Moominmamma through her tears, but she heard every word she said so clearly. She knew Moominmamma spoke from the heart, and meant everything she said with the utmost sincerity. It was enough to melt even the nasty old Park Keeper’s heart. 

“...now,” Moominmamma sighed, and her eyes began to slip close and her hands came to rest on her slowly rising and falling chest, “I think I’d like to rest now.”

Little My leaned up, and pressed a sweet kiss to her adoptive mother’s forehead. She then moved back, kneeling beside the bed, “Rest well, Moominmamma. You’ll need it, if you want to see Pappa in the morning…”

“I think so too. Goodnight, Little My. I love you so.”

“And I love you, Mamma.” 

**. . .**

The morning came suddenly and without warning.

When Little My awoke, she wasn’t shocked or surprised to learn the night before hadn’t been a nightmare. Instead, she was at peace, just as Moominmamma was, and wanted her to be too. 

She called the Valley doctor, and cleaned up the mess in the hall. She made sure everything in the house was somewhat orderly, just as Moominmamma liked it to be, and sat in the kitchen when everything was said and done, and after the doctor let her be.

She waited for awhile, she wasn’t sure how long, and then she heard the knocks at the door.

The first to arrive and learn was Mrs. Fillyjonk; she cried, for the first time in years it seemed, but took it in stride. She said her goodbyes, and was off in no time. Little My didn’t say much back. 

The next was Too-Ticky and Mymble; they had come to say their goodbyes, but had found themselves wanting to stay longer in the Valley after hearing the news. Mymble held her sister in an apologetic hug, begging for the forgiveness she immediately received, and then they were on their way again. Little My didn’t say much then, either. 

The Valley residents came and went all day, and word spread far and wide. Little My was glued to the telephone for a long time, and was exhausted by the end of it. She was surprised when there was a final knock at the door, at the end of the day.

Regardless, she answered, and tried to remain calm, “If you’re looking for Mamma…” She began softly.

“ _Is it true?_ ”

She was caught off guard then, and her breath hitched in her throat as she gazed at Moomintroll. 

He was alone, wrapped in a scarf he received for his 18th birthday, years ago now. His scruff was wild and fluffy as always, and his eyes were red… he had been crying for the whole day, hadn’t he? 

He held his tail in his hands, and wrung it so tightly in them, “Tell me, My, is it true?” He asked again, gently, “Is she… gone?” 

Little My couldn’t answer at first. She shook her head, and slowly stepped forwards once, then twice. The final time, she stepped into him, and pulled him into a tight hug. Suddenly, the two were both in tears, softly sobbing in the other’s arms in the doorway, mourning the mother they had lost the night before. 

They stayed as so for a few moments, then found themselves inside and on the couch, still hugging like they never had before. 

To lose one parent was hard enough, Little My knew this; she had lost her original father years ago, and then Moominpappa not as long ago; but to lose the other, _a mother_ soon after that stung more than anything the littlest mymble had experienced before, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how Moomintroll must’ve felt in that moment. 

The two didn’t speak for the longest time, and when they did again, it was Moomintroll who spoke first once more. 

“Did she go peacefully?” He asked softly, “Was it hard for her?”

“No,” Little My responded, “She was ready. She wanted to leave-- she kept telling me how she was… she was going to see Pappa again.”

Moomintroll sniffled, and rubbed his eyes with his paw. He had to take another moment before speaking again, “She missed him miserably. She just wanted to see him again.”

“Right you are,” Little My agreed. She looked away, and pulled her hands into her own lap now, “...Moomin, is it odd of me?”

“Is what odd of you?”

“To love her this way,” Little My sighed, “To love her like she’s my mother. My _real_ mother.”

Moomintroll tilted his head, and with a soft sigh, said, “Of course not, My. You’re like my sister.”

“But I’m not your sister. I’m an invader.”

“Are you?” Moomin scoffed. He put her hand on her shoulder and squeezed, “All these years… I married your brother, you really are my sister, you know. Moominmamma loved you like she loved _me--_ like one of her own. There’s no denying that. Why do you ask?”

Little My hesitated, and Moomin squeezed again, “She told me she loved me, right before she…” 

“I see,” Moomin whispered. He shifted, putting his arm around Little My again, “Little My, she wouldn’t have wasted her breath if she didn’t mean it. There isn’t anything wrong with feeling this way…”

“I know,” Little My replied, and leaned against Moomintroll absentmindedly, “I know. I’m sorry. I think I just… might be scared to go on without her.”

“Trust me, so am I. But she’d want us to do it together, wouldn’t she?”

“She would. She’d scold you for bringing _this_ much mud on the couch.”

“Oh, please! And she’d scold _you_ for not offering me a drink or a snack.”

The two shared a laugh, and for once, for one moment, everything felt as though it would be okay again. 

Just maybe.

**. . .**

Three weeks had passed since Moominmamma left to meet Moominpappa once again. 

Mymble and Too-Ticky had prepared and departed on their move, and Little My got to have her goodbyes without a sappy, rushed letter. 

Snufkin and Moomintroll were off on another trip with their child again; Moomin had offered to stay in the valley, for Little My’s sake, but she insisted she’d be alright (and, honestly, felt as though she would be). 

Little My felt at peace with herself once again, and enjoyed her humble farming life once again. It wasn’t as bad as she’d like it to seem, just a little tiresome at times. She raised her shed and picked out new patches for the new fruits and vegetables she’d plant come the Springtime, though that wasn’t what she was excited about.

In front of Moominhouse two large sections had been plotted out; in each, far more than a few dozen roses would be planted, in memoriam of Moominmamma, _her_ mother. She took comfort in the idea of being able to open her windows and see the flowers blooming in all their glory; in being able to sit on the porch and reminisce about how proud Moominmamma was of her garden, and how she worked so hard on it on top of all her other responsibilities. 

It wasn’t much, but to Little My, it was everything. For once in her life, Little My didn’t feel lost or confused, and felt like she had finally found what her place in the Valley really was. She was ready to let go now, because the past pushed for her to move on. 

Little My was at peace. 

And at peace she planned to stay. 


End file.
